


warm summer nights

by tinysmallest



Category: Danny Phantom, Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Post-Steven Universe: The Movie, Steven Universe Future, Steven Universe Future Spoilers, and by now things are blurring together, and that danny is like 15-16 here, be kind i started this all the way at the start of february, because there's a lot of little things i'd change about the show itself, danny's timeline is like really weird, hoping the phandom is as lenient here as it is on tumblr, it's attempting to be canon compliant, originally this contained a giant thing about the SUF timeline, right now all you need to know is that Phantom Planet Sucks Butt So We're Not Using That, steven's corruption scars exist but are Very Subtle, which is no longer necessary because we got the last half of the series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23473276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinysmallest/pseuds/tinysmallest
Summary: Greg Universe is a lot of things-- former, semi-famous rockstar, musician, adviser, small business owner, best friend-- but he is first and foremost a father.But there were other things that made up his identity, things that hurt to remember and were usually easy to forget- until the day an incident on the beach and the appearance of a strange teenager in town sent both his fatherly senses and old instincts screaming alarms in his head.Set after I Am My Monster but before the events of The Future.
Relationships: Greg Universe & Steven Universe, Greg Unvierse & Danny Fenton
Comments: 70
Kudos: 280





	warm summer nights

**Author's Note:**

> I started and finished the large majority of this all the way back in February, when we still had no idea when Future was returning. I figured with CN's track record it'd be summertime before we saw the conclusion of the series and I didn't want to wait that long.
> 
> Welp. That sure didn't happen. School, COVID-19, and then the airing of Future itself all pushed this back and then I decided I may as well see where this ride ends, and I did. So all of this has been carefully rearranged months later to somewhat accommodate the last half of Future. Enjoy.

Beautiful, blue, bejeweled.

This was one of the best things about living in Beach City. In this little town that was probably more of a village and definitely not a city, when the night was clear, as long as you weren't standing smack in the middle of town where the lights would be brightest, Greg could see more stars than humanity could probably ever hope to visit. The fact that Beach City was very much a rural town helped immensely, too. No Empire City to smog up the skies from nearby.

Just the ocean waves and the twinkling expanse above, and his son's house off to the side, the statue overhead serene and silent. You could write a song to a scene like this. Greg was trying, plucking idly at guitar strings, counting syllables in his head, matching words and chords. It wasn't a serious project. More like a doodle of a song. Simple, short, maybe a little messy. Perfection wasn't a requirement; just a bonus if it happened to happen.

He couldn't say for sure whether or not Steven was in bed. Sure, he hadn't heard anything, and Steven was sleeping much better these days, but Steven was also a teenager. Even at the best of times their inner clocks could be wonky. He sure remembered that. And it was a beautiful night; warm and breezy, calm and quiet.

So when he spotted a humanoid shape in the sky that lacked wings, he didn't think much on it at first. Steven was seventeen, he reminded the nervous fatherly instincts pricking up. And Steven was seventeen and _capable._ If the boy wanted to go for a walk or hang in the sky for awhile, that was his business, and if it was because Steven was troubled, then Steven knew to also make it Greg's business, if he wanted to.

Still, maybe he would pop by tomorrow morning with breakfast sandwiches. Just in case. Just to see him first thing in the morning.

Easy, Universe. Breathe. The air went in his lungs. The air flowed out.

He picked at the guitar again, but his eyes always somehow strayed back to the figure in the sky.

The first time Greg realized something might be off came when he realized the shape silhouetted against the stars was all wrong to be Steven. The body was too skinny- scrawny, even, and there was no sign of descent at all. Steven couldn't hold his position. He could only slow his descent. Steven should have landed on the beach by now, if it was really him.

Unease bubbled in the pit of his stomach. He squinted, but whatever was out there was too far away for features to be discernible. Greg didn't have binoculars.

Maybe he should go use that telescope...?

But it was probably just a gem, right? Right?

What was he supposed to do? Shout at them? They'd probably hear him from this far away...

Five dark bruises, long since faded, and the memory of what the house's deck looked like from upside down, twenty feet in the air was what made him unsure if he liked that fact. It was definitely too tall to be Bluebird, though, and there were no wings present, so there was at least that comfort.

Not that there was much comfort at all. Who said Bluebird might not have friends? Sure, she was an obnoxious little goblin, but Greg knew there were other gems who hated his son and, apparently, that was a hell of a unifier in the gem world. _I have no more hair to cut to get away if this is someone else who wants to try using me against Steven._

They hadn't heard his quiet guitar playing, at least, and if they'd taken notice of the van on the beach, there was no movement to do anything about it.

Still.

He moved to strum the guitar, but his trembling fingers thought the better of it last second without any real thought and caressed the side of the fingerboard. Maybe he should call Pearl? He should probably call Pearl.

As he reached for his phone, a breeze blowing through the van made him shudder. Jeez, when did it get so cold? _Why_ was it so cold! It was _May!_

Something made a noise outside. He froze.

The world went still. Greg's heart hammered in his chest, pounded in his head. He could feel it beating in his ears.

A loud, wet thunk hit the window, slid down it. Greg raised his head just slightly and felt his heart somersault in his chest as the discolored, waterlogged hand slid down the window with a slow, wet squeak.

What. The _fuck._

Greg was not a man who cursed liberally, years of raising a child to thank for that, but if there had been any air left in his lungs he would have said the fuck word like it was his day job at the sight of the other hand that slapped itself against the window. Fingers curled in like claws against the glass and there was a wet gurgle.

A face pressed into the pane. Skin blue, mottled with green and what looked like rotting bits, eyes nearly white, long, tangled, hair of indiscernible color, matted with sand and seaweed.

Their eyes met.

Before Greg could utter a sound she let out a guttural noise and banged on the window. It took a moment for Greg to realize that the strangled yelp was coming from him as he scrambled to close the back doors, slamming them shut with an echoing bang.

She clawed at the door underneath the window she was still smashed up against, something close to a growl pouring from her mouth. In the next moment the pouring was literally, water flowing like some kind of demented faucet from her throat. Greg watched from inside the van, feeling the world all but fall away as the girl began to turn inside out, discolored flesh exposing dully pulsating organs, meat rearranging itself into a ghasty, kraken thing with a pulsating eye sitting right where he was pretty sure squids did not have eyes.

It shrieked, slamming an arm the sand by the van, missing the front by an inch. Greg shouted in pain and scrambled to right himself, trying to get the doors he'd just closed back open.

_"Hey!"_

He stopped fumbling with the doors for a moment, then redoubled his efforts even though he felt the beast move a little bit away from where it had him pinned down.

The doors blew open with a bang and he half fell out, gaping from the sand at the sight of the back of a boy, floating in the air, fists raising for a fight. The kraken looked down at him, roared, and tried to slam its arm into him, next.

But as it came down, the child was gone.

He zipped around--around, the boy was flying--and kicked the thing right upside the head, sending it sprawling a few feet, before throwing what looked like glowing green fire at it from both hands. It swerved to the side, barely avoiding the beam of green fire, and looked back as if to assess where its prey had gone.

The boy shot like a reverse shooting star into the air and took another dive, feet held out to slam into the thing, but it halted his descent with a tentacle and threw him back, charging forward to meet him.

And it went right through him.

As it turned around again, the boy held up another hand of green fire and made a motion Greg realized somewhere in his frozen mind was very familiar. Like throwing a frisbee, the child flung a disk of green flaming something at the creature and hit it right in the eye in the middle of its head.

It exploded.

In a gush of green goo, it exploded, the slime expelled upwards in a really gross fountain. The boy landed in the sand beside the creature as the rest of the body began to melt away, blinking in what could only be surprise as the goo seeped into the ground. He tilted his head, bent over slightly, one hand resting on his knee as he fought to catch his breath, and opened his mouth.

Then he started, blinked, and turned the rest of his head to more clearly see what he must have been seeing from the corner of his eye--Greg himself--letting go of gravity as he did.

The boy floated there, breathing heavily, eyes locked on Greg, hair moving slightly like it was underwater, eyes glowing faintly. The world held still. 

"Sorry about that," he said softly, and as suddenly as he'd dove to Greg's rescue, he was gone, the prints from his boots in the sand the only sign he'd ever existed at all.

A breeze blew across the beach. Greg wheezed out a gasp as his body remembered it needed to breathe.

He looked to the house. Undisturbed. Steven must be out after all.

He laid down in the back of the van. If he was more in his own head he might have immediately gotten up to go wait in the house.

But the world was tilting and his head full of cotton, so he didn't do that.

But he did know one thing.

He was not sleeping until he knew his son was back safely in that house.

Hours. Minutes. Everything felt so quiet and so loud. He should call Steven. He should make sure he was safe.

But did any of that really just happen? Was this a nightmare? Was he just losing his mind? _I started losing my hair early; maybe I'd start going senile early, too,_ floated lazily up in the swamp water that was his brain currently, and despite the concern he probably should have been feeling at that thought (when had he last gone to the doctor for literally anything?) he felt nothing.

Finally, in the predawn light painting the world gray and blue, Greg saw him. Steven approached from the left side of the van a little off in the distance and walked out of view. He thought he heard the screen door.

Steven was home. Steven was safe. Whatever happened, whatever dark thing had reached from beyond the void to touch this beach, it hadn't touched Steven.

Steven was safe. Steven was safe. Steve was... safe... Steven... safe...

_dear theodosia what to say to you_

Sound. Light. _That's Steven._

Also, reality. Reality and pain. Headache.

He blinked and squinted, morning sun clear and warm, the world scattered, fuzzed at the edges, just clear enough to be entirely unwelcome in how real it was. Ugh. Why did his head hurt so much? Felt like he'd run a marathon-

Wait.

Wait wait what what-? Hold up. Put freakout on hold. Steven. He grabbed for his phone, fumbling it in sweaty fingers. 10:07. No wonder everything hurt. He'd slept maybe five hours, if that.

His eyes flicked from his phone to the sand as he thumbed over the screen to receive the call.

The van was parked far enough from the beginning of the beach for footprints to not leave indiscernible holes in the sand, but they weren't close enough to the surf for the tide to wash everything away. But it had been windy.

There were marks, but had they come from feet? He couldn't tell. He honestly couldn't tell. God.

"Dad?"

"Hi, Stchu-ball," he said aloud with a numb mouth and a number mind. Right. Think. Wake up, brain. Focus. He wanted to get breakfast for him.

"Hi Dad! Just got up; I was wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast? Or, well, me; the others have to run to go do Little Homeschool stuff."

"Yeah, sure buddy," he managed. "My treat?"

"You sure? I can cook-"

Something firm and determined pushed him forward. "No, that's fine. I've been meaning to try some of those breakfast sandwiches from Arianna's, anyway."

"Well... okay, if you're sure." The smile in his voice was warm. He wished he could return it.

"Yeah, I'm sure. See you in a few?"

"See you in a few."

They hung up. He swallowed and climbed into the front seat to start the van, ignoring the good morning text from Pearl with only a slight pang of guilt. Might as well get breakfast and practice smiling. He was going to need it.

* * *

The second Steven saw him, Greg knew the smile he'd pasted on before the door opened was too plastic.

The bright, sunny grin on Steven's face drooped, eyes quickly flicking up and down his father's form. Damn it. He hadn't changed his clothes from yesterday, that's right. There was nothing he could probably do about the dark circles he bet he had under his eyes but he should have changed his clothes at least.

Please don't comment on it. Just let it go by.

"Your sandwiches, Mr. Universe," Greg said, some distant part of him relieved that the silly, over-the-top voice came out and came out right. He gave his son a little bow as he presented the bag.

A giggle. "Please," Steven replied in an equally silly voice. "Call me Steven. Mr. Universe is my father's name." The weight of the bag disappeared from Greg's hand and he righted himself, wincing just slightly as one knee complained. The bag rustled, Steven stepping back inside the house. "My highly esteemed, very talented, charming father and oh my god is that an omelette? Is that an egg and mushroom breakfast sandwich? I'm throwing 'amazing' on that list I think."

He snorted as he followed Steven inside. "You flatterer you."

"Flattery has nothing to do with food that smells amazing. That you brought me," Steven said as he set the bag on the counter and withdrew the plastic containers. Something inside Greg's chest loosened at the absolutely ridiculous goofy face his son was making. They'd better dig in before the boy started drooling.

"All right, all right. I'll take some of those compliments," he laughed as he held his hands up in defeat, approaching the table. "Even though all I did was place an order."

"For the right things," Steven chirped as he reached into the cabinet to pull out plates. "Very much the right things. Stars that smells good."

"Well, what can I say? We Universes have very... _refined_ pallets." Greg took the containers over to the table, Steven following with the plates.

Now it was Steven's turn to snort. "Yeah, okay, sure."

"Hey, remember that night in Empire City? I am a man of _taste."_

"The classiest," Steven agreed, a touch of warmth to the banter. Greg chuckled and ruffled his hair.

The boy moved to take a seat before pausing, looking to his father. "Hey, what are we doing? It's a nice day! Let's eat outside?"

Inwardly he quailed a little. He'd really rather not look at the beach today, if he were being honest.

But that earnest expression? How could he ever say no to it? Especially when it was asking something totally reasonable of him. "Sure, kiddo."

He picked up the containers and Steven carried the plates, the door opening with the usual light creak of hinges moving. Steven sat on the steps with a sigh, stretching his legs and then scooting over to make room for his father. Greg sat beside him.

"So um... I was wondering..."

Greg turned his head. "Mm?"

Steven's eyes were lowered, foot tapping against the step below. "... Are you feeling okay?"

Ah geez. "What do you mean, Schtu-ball?"

"Uh, well, you look kinda- really tired today, and I dunno-" He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just wondering, like, did you sleep okay? Do you- maybe need to talk about something or...? Because I know, I know you'll say it's not my job, but you're my dad, and well, I just- I love you a whole lot and even if you don't wanna talk about it I'd just- just like to make sure you're all right."

Oh, _Steven._

He stared at his son, this sweet, brave, beautiful boy that he could barely believe came from his own dna, and leaned down to press a kiss into his hair.

"Dad?" He leaned back to find confused eyes that were rapidly becoming worried. Small wonder. Greg gave his son kisses all the time growing up, but they'd tapered off the past couple years out of respect for Steven's slowly emerging adulthood and the determination that his son would never, ever feel patronized by him.

He only gave in a few times, and considering the ones he could remember were Steven being abducted to space, the second time his son was abducted to space, and Steven returning from saving them all from certain, eventual destruction at the hand of space dictators?

Yeah, he could see why he'd be concerned.

"It's nothing," he promised, smoothing back Steven's hair a little. "Just... Had weird dreams last night. I'm very glad you're here."

"... You- could talk about them? If you wanted to," Steven ventured. The powerful affection swelled even more and he gave him another kiss, on his forehead.

"Nah, they weren't that bad. Nothing your old man can't handle. Besides, you don't need to fight them for me."

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't mean to brag-" the worried knot in his forehead hadn't quite left despite the grin he flashed at Greg- "but I'm quite the dream warrior. Just ask Kiki!"

"Kiki?" Oh, right, the pizza nightmare nonsense. "You sure are, but you don't have to be responsible for everyone's sleep, kiddo. Just yours." He ruffled his hair. "But hey- if there was something we could learn from this, I'd tell you. But there isn't really. It was just weird and uncomfortable. Not even really a nightmare."

"Oh." He made a face. "Those suck."

"They do," Greg agreed, reaching for a sandwich.

Maybe it had been a dream, somehow.

* * *

It was a few days later that the next oddity happened.

Just enough time for Greg to maybe consider that what happened on the beach was some weird sort of hallucination- or maybe something less severe than what that implied, maybe just a scary dream. A really, messed up, unsettling dream. He wasn't sure if he ate anything before falling asleep (he was pretty sure he didn't) but mark that down as something to never do again before bed, just in case.

He just really wish he didn't remember that kid's face as well as he did, or that... thing.

But it was fine! Greg was fine. It was probably just a nightmare, and nothing happened. Nobody got eaten the next day when they went in the water. No reports of missing persons. It was fine. He played guitar, hung out at his car wash, washed a couple cars, spent time playing music with Steven and Pearl, pacified Peridot's twenty questions when she and Lapis dropped by town to visit, introduced Garnet to a new band, cooked a dinner with Steven, and even took a long walk down the beach with Pearl, chatting about anything and everything. 

As always, the talk eventually turned to the townies, and what they were up to.

"It's so odd," Pearl mused. "I didn't know we could even get raccoons around here."

"Yep. They don't usually come into town, but there's plenty of them in the forest. Them and their weird tiny people hands."

Pearl made a face. "Oh- that doesn't sound- very nice."

Greg chuckled. "They're mostly harmless. It's just really startling to be sleeping and suddenly feel tiny hands just like yours touching you."

"Oh no, they haven't done that to you!?" She looked so scandalized Greg almost laughed.

"Oh yes they have! But not in town. Happened a few years back when I took Steven camping in the woods."

"Well that's awful rude of them," she huffed.

"Nah, cut them a break. We were intruders on their home, after all. They were just curious. Also they don't understand decorum like we do."

"Fair," she sighed. "Still, they must be capable of some form of human-like reasoning."

"Oh? Why's that?" Pearl was an incredibly sharp person, but 5000 some years of refusing to properly interact with humans left her woefully unaware of a lot of things about the planet she lived on. Sometimes hearing her reasoning was downright hilarious. She certainly was a creative one.

"Well," she started with all the innocence and assuredness of a small child about to explain a logic only they could understand, "The Frys and the Pizzas are the only ones it seems to bother."

He blinked. "Huh?"

"If it's really here for food, why does it only get into their garbage? Why not other people's? Food is food and organics need to consume it, so logically shouldn't it just go anywhere?" A pause. "Why, if it's coming from the woods, it's going out of its way to get to their trash, even! Fish Stew Pizza and Beach Citywalk Fries are all the way down the block from the forest."

Huh. She had a point. "Who knows? Animals are weird. There's a reason we still study them, after all."

She clucked her tongue. "I suppose we'll never truly know until we catch them in the act."

_They only get into the Frys' and the Pizzas' garbage._

He wish he'd paid more attention to that little tidbit than he did.

* * *

Three days after that conversation, four after that nighttime beach dream, standing in Fish Stew Pizza at the counter, waiting for Kiki to finish his order, he saw him.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted movement from out the open window and, as humans were wont to do when something moved in their peripherals, he turned his head, not expecting to find much. This was one of the more popular spots of Beach City. People weren't super uncommon, especially with the gems hanging around the city now.

What was uncommon, what was odd, was the sight of a new face, hanging around by the garbage-- a teenager, with messy black hair and a t-shirt and jeans. Greg blinked in surprise, but any curiosity he might have felt evaporated as he watched the hunched up teenager glance, and not very inconspicuously, left, then right-

And then grabbed the little paper container containing a half-eaten thing of fries right from where it was perched on top of the rest of the trash, sliding over with guilty, shameful stumbling to the bench beside the garbage can. He shoved his hand into the bag and dug out a fistful of fries.

Greg froze. For a moment, all he could see was white hair, glowing in the moonlight, floating slightly in the air, topping a face that was a bit too thin. Something familiar-

Not the only thing familiar. At the same time he remembered walking by that same can, hunched over with shame and hunger, chewing the inside of his cheek, worries swirling, Rose oblivious thank _god-_

Sitting on the boardwalk with a hungrily suckling baby kicking the bottle, staring at the food places he couldn't afford to order from because that crib had cost way more than he'd anticipated, stomach complaining with a hollow, gnawing pain-

Trying to ignore the burning in his cheeks as he counted up nickels and dimes for Kofi, grateful for his patience but feeling anxiety draw its claws along the inside of his head, wondering how long that patience would last when there was a line behind him-

"Mr. Universe?"

"U-um-" Trying to stuff his brain back into his head, he turned to look back to Kiki, whose face was lined with concern. Right. Pizza. "Oh, uh, thanks Kiki. This'll- uh, make great leftovers." 

"Well... I always thought cold pizza was yucky but hey, it's your food, not mine." She returned his weak smile and ducked back into the kitchen. He picked up the box, gears whirring as he stepped outside and approached the bench.

As his shadow fell over the teenager, the boy glanced up from where he was trying to peer into the clearly-empty box, eyes that looked too big for his head watching him warily. They were a startling shade of baby blue and it almost wrecked Greg's concentration. Almost.

"Hey there!" he smiled at the boy. "Today's your lucky day! I've started doing a 'one nice thing a day' resolution-- you know, spread some goodwill and all throughout the whole year, not just at the holidays-- and you're today's winner! Have a pizza."

He held the box out to him. One eyebrow quirked up, but the slightly shaking hands did accept the box.

"... And you didn't put anything weird in it." It wasn't a question, and it wasn't quite a statement either, brushing instead somewhere lightly against an accusation, especially with the pointing finger at the box now sitting on his lap.

"On my honor as a musician," he promised, raising one hand, putting on his best overdramatic voice. There was a brief spark of amusement in the boy's eyes. Greg took the minute of lowered guard to give him a quick scan.

Messy black hair he'd seen from the shop, but closer now, he could tell there was a very slight greasy quality to it, exacerbated by the lack of brushing. His frame and his face were a bit too thin, elbows poking out a bit more noticeably than they should have been, cheekbones a touch too sharp. There was a hole in one of the knees of his jeans, and given the dirt smeared on the pants, it didn't look like fashion.

"Yeah, well... thanks, I guess." He was still suspicious. Understandable. Greg knew what it looked like, a grown man approaching a lone boy he had no relation to with free food. He didn't begrudge the kid the wary gaze still honed in on him with laser focus. "I'm staying right here."

"Never said you had to go anywhere," Greg said, backing away this time with both hands raised. "Enjoy your lunch, kiddo."

He turned and went right back into the pizza shop, hailing Kiki down again.

"Yeah, Mr. U?"

"You see that kid outside?" he asked softly. Her head turned with his in time to watch the boy tear the pizza box open, rip out a slice, and begin to hork it down. She nodded, her face a wince of sympathy.

"Yeah."

"Tell him he can get a free pizza a day, okay? I'll pay for it, but don't credit me. Let him think whatever, just as long as he knows he can get something to eat here."

"Awfully sweet of you," she said with a little smile. "Yeah, I'll do that. Should we get ahold of his parents or...?"

Something twisted uncomfortably in his gut. "No. He might recoil if we're too obvious about helping. If his family needs food, he'll take the pizza home."

"Well, looks like they must be having dinner tonight. Sure hope he doesn't eat that whole thing by himself right now, though." They resisted the urge to check. "I'll keep an eye on him, Mr. Universe. Can't leave the shop, but as long as he's hanging around outside, I don't mind watching him."

"Maybe try to keep your dad or Mayor Nanefua from hovering too close?" He forced an awkward chuckle. "I remember what it's like, being that age. He'll just get embarrassed and shut down. Free pizza won't do him much good if he won't come to claim it."

"Don't worry Mr. U; I got this." She winked at him. He tried to let it comfort him, and smiled back.

The boy was still tearing apart the pizza when he stepped outside. Resisting the urge to check on him again, he walked away.

He went to find Steven, lunch forgotten, and made sure to give his son a great big hug.

"Dad?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to give you a hug."

If he had his way, it would have been for the rest of forever.

* * *

He'd almost convinced himself by the time a week had passed that the white-haired floating kid from the beach was a bad dream, or maybe even some kind of... weird, residual Future Sight rubbing off on him.

Could that even happen? Greg was sure around magic stuff often enough for something weird to pop up, right? He was tempted to as Garnet about it, but the urge to keep quiet about this wouldn't go away. Especially since he wasn't sure that he could trust Garnet to keep this between them- not when she shared almost everything with the other gems now, not when they were finally feeling something like a family unit after all the years they wasted being distant and combative with one another. Garnet was nothing if not protective, and he knew the implication he'd started seeing things might concern her into consulting the others. Maybe even consulting other humans, given that he was pretty sure she knew little about human biology and how brains and bodies connected.

Or she could take it to be a literal, physical threat and sound the alarm. That felt likely, too. Extremely likely. He thought of the way she very carefully shadowed Steven in the months following his meltdown, and winced. Yeah. That would be a bad idea.

Especially if this was all just absolutely nothing.  
  
God, the last thing he'd want to do is alarm Steven for absolutely nothing.

He locked up the car wash at around dusk, checking his phone as he walked his way down the street towards the beach. Steven would probably be starting to cut the vegetables, and if he hurried, he'd get there before he was ready to toss the salad and reheat the sauce from three days ago. He might even be in time to help Steven dice, actually.

As he reached the street that became the giant back area of The Big Donut, he heard it.

The sound of metal rattling.

Greg froze, looking up from his phone, staring down the block. Boardwalk Street saw the back of several stores and featured two small parking lots, indents in the street that hid the actual backs of the stores from sight- not helped by how far back Shirts 4 You extended.

A memory floated. Raccoons.

Well huh. He should. Probably look.

He stood there another minute before there was another rattle of metal and sighed, pressing his thumb into the power button of his phone to make it sleep and following the sound.

Is that... is that _glowing?_

He turned the corner of Shirts 4 You, staring across the little parking lot at the backs of the junky souvenir shop (the name of which he'd never bothered learning in the thirty some years he'd lived here), Fish Stew Pizza, and Beach Citywalk Fries.

And floating above the dumpster of the pizza place was-

The phone dropped to the concrete with a clatter and the white haired boy looked up from where he was reaching into the trash, green eyes locking with his.

For a second the world was still.

Then Greg blinked, and there was nothing there. How long he stood there he didn't know, the buzzing of his phone the only thing to make it past the pounding in his ears. 

Numbly, he bent and picked up the phone.

_Hey dad, where are you? You okay?_

With trembling fingers he tapped out a message.

_Fine, sorry kiddo. Customer took too long. Just got him to leave. Be right there. <3_

He looked up. The dumpster lid was now back in place. The sound he made was barely human.

Greg shoved his phone in his pocket, turned, and left.

* * *

"You're really not slick, dude."

Greg startled, nearly dropping the bag. He fumbled it embarrassingly, only just managing to catch it by one of the loops in the plastic. A deep sigh came from above him, and he lifted his burning face to look into the eyes of the unimpressed teenager sitting in the tree.

How did he even climb that high? It wasn't a very sturdy tree. Just the tallest one in the park. The thought made his gut knot. Please get down from there.

"Why are you following me?" His thin shoulders hunched, face tight, fists clenching.

Well this was sure going the exact opposite way he wanted it to.

"I- uh... wanted to give you this," he admitted in defeat, setting the plastic bag down at the base of the tree. "Thought you could use it."

"I'm not getting down." Greg heard the real meaning crystal clear. _I'm not getting within grabbing distance._ "Throw it up to me if you want me to see it that bad."

Well, it wasn't exactly heavy, but... "You... sure it won't unbalance you?"

"Try me." The barest hint of smugness amidst the defensive suspicion.

Huh. Welp. "Okay, sure." If he fell, Greg knew a guy who could repair anything. Even if he had to cushion the kid's fall with his own body there'd be no lasting harm with Steven around, not really, and insisting the kid come down was not worth risking the boy running off. He threw the bag up.

The teenager caught it in one hand with an ease that surprised him. Shifting slightly, likely to ensure his butt was securely on the branch, he dared to let go of the tree with his other hand to open the bag, a few brightly-colored plastic bottles and a loofa staring up at him. "... This is-"

"There's a public shower over by the beach. The beach open to the public, I mean. It's a much better place to clean up than the ocean and it really will help you feel loads better." He pointed at the direction of the beach, resisting the urge to shield his eyes from the setting sun. "We really get barely any tourists compared to Ocean Town, but we get just enough that nobody will think twice about you using the facilities. It's May, after all. This is when tourist season starts."

The boy lowered the bag a little, eyebrows shooting to the sky. It made his eyes look even bigger and his confusion even more child-like. "... Why?"

"Uh- why do we have a tourist scene? Beats me. Beach City's a nice place, but it's tiny and has less stuff than-"

"No I mean- why?" He gestured to the plastic bag in his lap.

"Oh, that." He shrugged, doing his best to seem nonchalant. "You look like you could use a little help."

"And you just... decided to help." His voice was flat with disbelief.

Greg blinked. For a second he could've sworn his eyes were green. 

Green. Green like-

_Focus, Universe!_

"Yeah."

"And you don't want anything."

"Nope."

"... I'm not sure if I believe that."

Shit, he'd probably turned down the pizza offer too, then.

"Listen I know it sounds... weird. And I didn't want to butt in, so I won't ask. But I can help without having to know every detail, so... well, why not?"

The kid tilted his head to the side, chewing on his lip a little.

"If you ever wanna talk, you can find me at the car wash." He pointed. "Can't miss it. Out of the park down this way to Boardwalk Street, take a left to Thayer Street, walk up the block. It's at the base of the giant hill, only thing on that side of the street, right next to the ocean."

"... Mmhm." He wasn't looking at him. Okay, fair.

"See you around?" He gave the teenager a wave.

As he turned to leave, he heard a soft "See you around."

* * *

"Um- is this seat taken?"

Greg glanced up in surprise from his lawnchair at the voice. That surprise quickly turned into relief at the shock of messy hair, even if the teenager looked like he was trying to curl into himself while still standing. "Nope. Go ahead."

He sat down on the other lawnchair, tucking his knees against his chest and glancing skywards. 

For a few minutes all was quiet.

"... It's a nice night."

"Sure is," Greg returned easily. "We get a lot of those around here, especially in summer." The kid looked so sad and he ached to do something about it, but pouncing was ill-advised right now. 

A star shot across the sky. Suddenly that pain became a look of sheer joy, the boy gasping in delight. Greg smiled. "Pretty, huh? Meteorites are aweso-"

"Meteors."

"Mm?"

"Oh- uh-" The boy flushed. "They're only meteorites if they don't disintegrate before they hit the ground. Otherwise they're meteors."

"No kidding. What about comets, then?"

"Oh, those are like-" He held up his hands a width apart. "They're small solar system bodies made out of ice, and when they get close to the sun, the sun warms them up, and that makes them start releasing gasses- it's called outgassing? And that's what makes them look like they do- although they don't always get a tail."

"The only comet I've ever heard about is Haley's Comet," Greg mused.

"Oh, we won't see that again until 2061," he chattered. "That comet only comes around every seventy-five years, give or take a year."

"Well look at you, little astronomer!" Aw hell, that face was cute. It looked just like Steven's when Steven was going off about music. "Okay, what do you know about other solar- bodies?" That was the term he'd used right? "In our solar system."

"You- really wanna know?"

"Yeah!" For all his son was a space prince he knew dip about the solar system. "Lay it on me."

"Oh- geez- where to start-! Okay, did you know a day on Venus is longer than an earth year? Uhhh- the footprints on the moon?" He pointed up, like Greg might've forgotten where the moon was. "Those'll be there for a hundred million years- oh here's a really cool one; if two pieces of the same kind of metal touch while in space, they permanently bond because the atoms straight up have no way of knowing that they're separate! It doesn't happen on earth because there's air and water between the pieces." He stretched out one foot, eyes locked on the starscape above, face practically glowing, hands moving as he spoke, as if trying to pluck the wonders he spoke of from the sky to show him. "The highest peak on any planet in our solar system is Olympus Mons, which is a giant volcano on Mars that's like, three times as big as Everest! Neutron stars--those are the densest and littlest stars we know of so far--their radius is around six miles long but their mass might be several times greater than our own sun, and they might spin six hundred times a second because of their weird physics-"

Greg didn't realize how hard he was smiling until Danny stopped, cheeks turning bright red.

"U-um- sorry, didn't mean to just go off like that-"

Greg waved a hand. "It's fine. I asked, right? Besides, that was all pretty cool." He wondered how much Steven knew.

Quiet again.

"It really is a nice night," the boy murmured.

"If you stick around, you'll get used to them."

The teenager's back went rigid. "Uh-"

"Look," Greg said with a slow sigh. He set aside his guitar. "... I don't pretend to know exactly what your situation is. And I'm not demanding to know, either. I have some guesses-"

The blood drained from the boy's face.

"-But! Well... I'd be a hypocrite if I turned you over to the police. I get it, I really do. But I'm a father, kiddo. I just... want you to be safe. Wherever that is, however that has to happen. Even if the law wouldn't exactly be smiling at me for how that comes around."

"... So you're saying... you're... not? Gonna call the police?"

"No. And frankly we've got enough weirdness going on here that I don't think a lot of people will be too upset at something new if you just started hanging around. That's what my son's friend started doing, for days, and nobody questioned her. They all just assumed she'd just moved to Ocean Town nearby and, well, she had."

"Son?" Now that his fear was easing, he was processing that. "You've got a son?"

"Yup." He didn't bother trying to hide the pride in his voice. "About your age, too. If you do start hanging around here, you can expect to run into him. He's very much a people person. Spends a lot of time wandering town and usually ends up here at some point or another."

"Huh." There was something else in his face now, a look Greg recognized very much indeed. It took everything in him to not physically react to the yearning in his eyes. "... If he's anything like you that... doesn't sound so bad."

"Steven is a million times my better, trust me," he chuckled. "I know I'm his dad and it's kind of my job to say that, but really, he is."

"Heh..." the boy stretched his legs.

Silence.

"You got a place to sleep?"

The big, baby blues were defensive again. "Yeah."

"Sleeping bag?"

"Mmhm."

"... And you're not lying?" he coaxed gently.

"No." Though still lined with borderline aggressive caution, Greg could read his face well enough. He wasn't lying.

"Okay. But if the weather ever gets really bad, come find me. We'll figure something out- and it won't be with me," he added hastily as the boy quirked an eyebrow, drawing his legs in again. "You can crash with my son, maybe, or I'll find somewhere else you'd feel safe in, but I wouldn't try to make you stay in a space with me alone. I get it. Stranger danger."

That got a head tilt. "He doesn't live with you?"

"Ah- no." That old pang, especially given recent events. "He lives with his mom's relatives. It's a sort of... joint custody thing, but we're on good terms. He comes down and sees me all the time, and I go over there all the time. We cook together. Hang out. He's fifteen minutes away by walking from here. I basically just don't actually sleep there, really, unless he wants me to."

And lately he'd wanted him to quite frequently. Especially after the other night. It had taken a minute of comfortable silence while eating for Greg to realize that if he'd only slept five hours, so had Steven, since Steven had gotten back from his walk not minutes before Greg finally passed out. Steven squirmed under his gentle questioning but caved quickly enough, admitting he'd had a nightmare and wanted to go clear his head. Even better, he didn't resist Greg's offer to stay over for the rest of the week.

That therapy sure was helping. Little steps. It hadn't stopped the nightmares, and the boy still went pink occasionally, but Steven was opening up, accepting help. Greg was proud of him.

Now hopefully this kid would accept some manner of help, too.

... He probably should explain the magical aliens, huh. Then again, if the boy was hanging around Beach City so much...

Well it wasn't like all the gems had humanoid anatomy to their forms. Hell, Bixbite had a claw! And the kid hung around Fish Stew Pizza often enough to have probably seen her.

"So have you seen the- uh-" He gestured out over the city. The boy blinked in confusion before understanding dawned on his face.

"Oh, you mean the literal aliens walking around." He snorted at Greg's face. "Well they're not exactly _subtle."_

"Uh- no, you're right, they're not," he laughed weakly. "It's a good thing the ones that look less human have the sense to avoid Beach City during the day during tourist season but there are slips now and again."

"I'd say it's kind of amazing the news hasn't spread but like- aliens. Who's gonna believe that."

"Exactly. You have no idea how long that's kept us safe."

Something passed across his face, something grim and hard and understanding and wow it made a rock lodge in his gut. The look was gone in seconds, but some of that steel remained. The nod the boy gave was way too mature for a kid his age. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd imagine it'd be bad if it got out beyond Beach City. I won't say anything."

"We all appreciate that," Greg said softly, still stunned. "Uh- thanks, kiddo."

"Mmhm." He stretched out again.

A breeze blew through, ruffled their hair.

"Danny."

Greg's head turned from the starscape above them. "'Scuse me?"

"Danny. My name's Danny."

"Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Greg. Greg Universe." He held out his hand across the divide of the lawn chairs. Danny studied it for a moment before taking it.

"It's... been nice to meet you too." A hint of a grin. "Universe? Really?"

He flushed. "Ah, well- bit of a story, tha-"

"How'd you manage to land the coolest last name in the world? You and your kid get 'Universe' and I get something dorky as hell? That's not fair."

Greg stared at him for a moment before laughing.

He liked this kid already.

**Author's Note:**

> Will I be continuing this? I have no idea. I have ideas for scattered scenes (including such lovely features like Danny yelling at a fountain statue and the Guys in White getting involved) but not a cohesive story. I'd like to, but I sorta need a story to write more.
> 
> My original comment, which I am leaving here, was 'Also I haven't seen any fanfiction put the pieces of Greg's past together so god damn it I'll do it myself and glue the whole thing together with headcanons and you can't stop me.' This is really funny to me in hindsight even if I got a detail or two wrong here and there. Thanks for the validation, canon!
> 
> I considered rewriting the whole thing to omit Steven entirely but I just could not do it. I loved the scenes with him in it too much. So even though I'd now have to consider how this would alter The Future if I choose to continue, I left those scenes in. I am weak and do not care.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr (tiny-smallest) if you want to.
> 
> (look at me, forgetting that Don't Cost Nothing does _not_ contain that line it's _light summer breeze_ u dumbass)


End file.
